he's the predator
Never would she admit this aloud but she enjoyed the warmth and feeling of safety that came from as he carried her down the stairs, cradling her body to his chest.
She could feel him stare at her every few seconds, but she didn't do anything about it. She was too comfortable.
Her head pounded painfully and her throat itched, but she didn't say anything because being in his arms helped to ignore everything else. She ignored the fact that she hated him and that he allowed her no freedom, she ignored the fact that he should be at work and she should be walking aimlessly around the house until he returned.
She ignored the rational part of her mind and snuggled in closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her.
She didn't stir he placed her down on the sofa, making sure to cover her with the duvet which he had hastily grabbed from upstairs. She didn't stop him as he softly picked up her head and placed a pillow underneath it, making sure not to wake her.
She drifted in and out of darkness for the next half an hour as he busied himself in the kitchen, preparing some chicken soup for her.
She whined as he woke her. He tugged away the blanket as she snuggled deeper into it and he caught her foot as she tried to kick him.
He smiled as she sat up with a huff.
It was just like old times, he thought to himself as she grumbled, her eyes hooded and her head resting against his shoulder, her lips set in a cute, yet angry pout.
A sense of satisfaction washed over him as she allowed him to feed small spoonful's of soup. She only managed about a half of it before she pushed and gulped down some water greedily.
Worry consumed him as she choked on the water, a few tears stinging her eyes. He rubbed her back softly and allowed her a small sip of water after she had calmed down so she could take her medicine.
She narrowed her eyes at him, but took the pills anyway. Closing her eyes, she pulled the blanket back over her and then lied back down the sofa.
She never liked taking medicine, he mused to himself.
She heard him gather the plates and her glass. She felt him get up from the sofa by her feet, but it wasn't long before the pressure was back and she knew that he had returned.
She knew that he was watching her, but she didn't rebuke him as usual.
It wouldn't change anything.
He wouldn't stop.
He wouldn't ever stop.